


Treason & Hard Feelings

by InkRanOut



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Crushes, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Prison, Redemption Fic (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 07:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19079920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkRanOut/pseuds/InkRanOut
Summary: Although Soren and Claudia's original plan was to ditch Corvus in the town's prison and continue on their journey, Soren soon finds he's gotten somewhat attached.





	Treason & Hard Feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lopingloup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lopingloup/gifts).



> Hi there! This work goes to my lovely friend Loup! <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! :D

They arrived in town early afternoon.

Soren had promised to lock him up as soon as they got there, and he did just that.

The town’s prison was small, barely had any prisoners. At least half of them were travelling with guards from different cities, having stopped at the town to rest and leaving in less than a week.

But Corvus was staying. Soren had promised him he was going to rot behind bars, in that small town in the middle of nowhere. Corvus believed him.

The first night wasn’t very easy. He got beaten by several other prisoners, ‘a warm welcome for the newcomer’, as they’d called it. And even though he’d fought back, they were too many for one person to stand a chance.

The guards watched, but didn’t interfere. Corvus wondered if they just didn’t care enough to stop them, or if this was their only entertainment around here.

By the time when he was finally left alone and allowed to go to sleep, he was battered and bloody, and all but passed out on the thin, hard prison mattress.

Lying down motionless, he could only hope that this kind of thing wouldn’t happen often. He didn’t have to worry about it for long, however, because sleep claimed him mercifully fast.

 

* * *

 

Soren visited him the next morning – to gloat, Corvus had instantly assumed and, frankly, there wasn’t a single thing that proved him wrong. At first.

The young man had walked inside the prison building with his head held high and a satisfied smirk on his lips, apparently in a very good mood.

“How’s it going?” he asked cheerfully. “I didn’t wanna leave without saying anything, so I thought I’d pass by and say goodbye.”

He both looked and sounded fairly pleased with himself.

That is, until he finally looked at Corvus.

He instinctively stepped back, stumbling slightly. “Wh– Why are y-“

He paused, apparently at a loss for words. “Dude, what happened to you?” he finally managed.

Corvus couldn’t see his own face, but judging by Soren’s almost horrified expression, it must have been about as bad as he’d expected. He guessed that he had at least a black eye and a swollen lip, and probably a bruised jaw, too – that punch had been pretty hard. And that was just his face.

Soren’s question was a fairly odd one –Corvus could’ve sworn that it was pretty obvious, what had happened to him– but the man answered anyway, mainly to see whether Soren would laugh at his face for buying his shock as genuine.

“My peers,” he said, “they wanted to welcome me the traditional way.”

“Oh,” Soren all but whispered, and for a moment Corvus thought he could hear the gears in his head turning. “Is that so.”

It wasn’t a question, and Corvus didn’t say anything, only stared at Soren, trying not to mirror his wide-eyed expression.

What had Soren expected? Corvus knew that he was impulsive by nature and never paused to think about the possible consequences of his actions, he’d figured that out even with the short while he’d known him, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated with this one. It was Soren’s fault that his whole body ached and throbbed, after all.

But this was war. There was no room for hard feelings.

And despite the fact that he knew that very well, Corvus felt so many different emotions as he stared at Soren’s bemused expression.

“Do they… often do that?” Soren whispered, gesturing vaguely towards Corvus. He sounded more awkward than usual.

Corvus shrugged. “It seems so.”

A pause. “So you were just quietly minding your business, and then they just walked up to you and beat you up?”

The way Soren phrased it, it did sound like it made no sense, but Corvus knew what had happened to him was nothing unusual.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Another pause. “So you didn’t say anything to them, they just… hit you? Unproven?“ He stopped. “Un- Unprovoked?” he corrected.

“Yes,” Corvus repeated, feeling increasingly impatient. “That is correct.”

“I see,” Soren muttered. He cleared his throat. “I, uh… I have to do something. See you later.”

He waved a hand and ran off, leaving the word “later?” stuck in Corvus’ throat.

 

* * *

 

Corvus opened his eyes to a dull pain. He thought he’d have gotten used to it by now, but it was just as unpleasant and distracting as it had been the previous day.

He hissed quietly as he sat up, scanning his surroundings.

A wooden bed, same as yesterday. Sixteen bars, as they had been yesterday. And a Soren, same as—

“What are you doing here?” Corvus heard himself say in resignation, and his own tone surprised him.

He wondered for a moment whether he was dreaming, but the pain was too real for this to be a dream.

“I brought your breakfast,” Soren replied, staring at him as if it was obvious.

And lowering his eyes to the plate Soren was holding with one hand, Corvus realized that it had indeed been a little obvious.

Still, it was morning and Soren was supposed to have been gone by now.

“Has there been a change of plans?” Corvus questioned, standing up.

He didn’t really expect to get an answer, a ‘none of your business’ felt more appropriate coming from the enemy, but apparently Soren never did anything that Corvus expected him to.

“Um, yes, actually,” Soren began. “We’re staying. Another day. We’re staying for another day. Yeah.”

“But… why?” Corvus asked.

“Because, well… y’know,” Soren muttered, and Corvus raised an eyebrow. “None of your business,” he finished.

Ah, there it was.

Corvus fell silent, knowing that there’s no point in trying to get information once the captor had decided they wouldn’t talk. He eyed the plate in Soren’s hand instead.

“Oh.” Soren offered it to him. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Corvus said politely, taking it. He sat down on the mattress and started eating slowly, and after a few seconds, Soren walked away without another word.

 

* * *

 

 

It was happening again.

Corvus had thought it an one-time thing they did to newcomers, but then he found himself cornered during the lunch break for the second time in two days.

This time, he didn’t look at the guards with eyes that were calmly but steadily asking for help. He just closed them and silently waited for the first blow, wondering how often he would have to endure this.

Just as he felt rather than saw a prisoner raise their fist, a guard’s voice came from his left, and everybody froze in place.

“What’s going on here?”

Corvus opened his eyes. He saw a guard, with her hands on her hips and fingers lightly resting on the hilt of her sword.

“What do you mean?” a prisoner snapped, frowning.

“This kind of behavior will not be tolerated in this prison,” the guard said.

“What?”

“Return to your tables immediately, or there will be _dire_ consequences.”

The prisoners seemed puzzled. Corvus guessed that they got to do whatever they wanted until now, and even he had a difficulty figuring out what had changed now.

The guard stared at them impatiently, and eventually added: “The crownguard’s orders. Hurry it up.”

And suddenly, Corvus understood. He understood what had changed. But that realization brought forth another question that he didn’t know the answer to.

He knew where to look for it. If Soren ever visited again.

 

* * *

 

Soren did visit again, although this time was a little different.

It was the middle of the night, and Corvus had been trying to fall asleep when he heard a faint metallic sound.

He instinctively sat up and saw Soren crouched in front of his cell, messing with one of the bars. He froze when he realized that Corvus was awake and staring at him.

“They’ll think you escaped,” Soren whispered in the dark.

“I don’t want to be called a traitor and a fugitive,” Corvus replied just as quietly.

Soren stared at him, silent, and a weak voice in the back of Corvus’ head softly reminded him of the question he’d meant to ask him.

“Why did you do that?” He paused. “Why are you doing this?”

“I changed my mind,” Soren whispered, avoiding Corvus’ eyes. “I don’t want to leave you here.”

“But— why?”

“I don’t know.” Soren sounded as frustrated as Corvus felt. “I really don’t. Are you really not going to escape?”

“Please,” Corvus said quietly. “If these are my choices… I want to stay here.”

Soren was quiet. He sighed and he stood up from where he was crouching, threw whatever tool he had used to damage the bar on the ground in frustration, then panicked at the noise. He looked around and exhaled in relief when nobody came.

“Fine,” he muttered. “If that’s what you want…”

“Thank you,” Corvus said, bowing his head slightly. Soren shook his head, visibly uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.

They stared at each other for a while. Then Soren turned around, picked up the tool –a common dagger, Corvus realized– and quietly left, leaving no trace he had been there at all.

 

* * *

 

The next time he woke up, it was late morning and Corvus was alone.

The sunlight that slipped between the bars to rest on his still swollen eyes and barely healed cheeks was too bright, and he raised a lazy arm to cover his face.

He was in prison. Right.

Memories of last night returned to him and he sighed deeply, guessing that Soren was already out of town by now.

He was the one who had decided to stay; he hadn’t forgotten. The life of a fugitive didn’t suit him. But that didn’t make this any easier.

At least Soren had made sure he wouldn’t be hit for no reason again. It was more of a parting gift, now. Corvus doubted that the guards would continue to carry out Soren’s orders now that he’d left the town, but he still appreciated the thought.

He would get used to it all, eventually. The cramped prison cell that seemed smaller every time he woke up in the morning, the horrible beatings that meant nothing, the loneliness that had never felt so intense before he met Soren. All he needed was time.

He sighed again, because that’s all he had the energy to do. He felt completely drained.

And yet, as soon as he heard footsteps, he sat up fast enough for the movement to make him dizzy. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, loud and hopeful.

It wasn’t Soren.

Corvus really didn’t want to feel disappointed, but in the end it just couldn’t be helped.

His visitor was a guard – he remembered her; she was the one who stopped the prisoners from beating him the second time.

She didn’t greet him and went straight to the point:

“You are to be transferred to the palace prison,” she announced.

“The palace prison?” Corvus echoed, raising an eyebrow in wonder.

“The crownguard’s orders,” was the closest he got to a reply, as the guard took out her keys and unlocked the barred door.

He silently offered his hands to be cuffed, and once his wrists had been properly secured, the guard led him out of the prison building.

Soren was waiting for him in front of his horse, alone. Corvus wondered where his sister was, though that thought slipped away as soon as he saw the way Soren’s face lightened up when he saw him approaching.

“Thank you,” Soren told the guard, offering his hand for a handshake.

The guard didn’t take it, only silently handed him the key for Corvus’ handcuffs. Soren smiled at her in response, a little awkwardly, and the guard gave him an unimpressed look before walking away.

The two men’s eyes met as soon as they were alone, and they held each other’s gaze for a long time.

Soren’s cheeks flushed more the longer they looked at each other. Eventually, he averted his gaze, embarrassed.

“Claudia left yesterday,” he said, still not looking at Corvus. “We’ll meet up with her in the next town.”

“I see,” Corvus replied. He knew that he wouldn’t get an answer if he asked Soren why he was doing this, so he settled for: “And what happens after?”

“We have to… We have to go our separate ways, eventually,” Soren said, lowering his eyes. “But there is a way for us to stay together.”

Corvus frowned. “I can’t.”

“Come with me,” Soren said. “If my dad becomes king, I’ll be the heir! You’ll have the best kind of life.”

“I cannot betray the kingdom and its rightful king!”

“Sure you can. If you really want to!”

There was something very childish about Soren’s reply. But there was also genuine hope in there.

Corvus made a frustrated noise. He lowered his voice, “I can’t do what you’re asking of me.”

“Even if you had to choose between that and rotting away in prison?” Soren tried.

“Yes,” Corvus said, eyeing him calmly.

“I suppose I really can’t change your mind… I’ve never been that good at talking, anyway.” Soren sounded sad, but he still offered Corvus a faint smile. “But locking you up is not what I want.” He scratched the nape of his neck. “Guess you’ve already figured that out by now…”

“Why not?” Corvus couldn’t stop the words from slipping out of his lips.

“I don’t know. I guess I just… I like you.”

Corvus felt his stomach clench. He didn’t want to let go, either.

“You’re a good person, Soren. You don’t have to walk down this path.”

“But my father, my sister… What else can I do?”

Soren barely kept himself from stepping back when Corvus offered him his hand, palm up. “Come with me. You don’t need to become king in order to have a good life. Sometimes it’s better to do what you think is right.”

“I- I…“ Soren trailed off, as if all thoughts had suddenly escaped his head, leaving him blank.

“You can do it. If you really want to,” Corvus told him.

Soren looked at his hand again, frowning at it like it was a very difficult puzzle he had to solve. His breathing had become shaky and uneven.

Eventually, he looked up at Corvus. “Can I really?” He paused. “What about my sister? And my dad?”

“We have powerful people on our side, too. They won’t be a problem,” Corvus reassured him.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Soren pressed his lips together. “Will I… Will I have to _fight_ them?”

“Oh.” Corvus’ expression tightened.

Soren was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, and Corvus knew that if this whole thing meant anything, he had to be honest.

“I don’t want to force you to fight them,” he finally said. “And I promise, I won’t have you directly hurt them. But we still cannot let lord Viren take the throne. It is far too dangerous for that man to have so much power.”

“I know,” Soren said.

“You…” That wasn’t the reply he had expected. Corvus raised his eyebrows at Soren. “Huh?”

“I know he’s dangerous. He scares me, sometimes,” Soren continued. “I don’t want him to get more powerful, either. But what can I do? He’s my dad. And he, he loves me…”

Corvus placed a hand on Soren’s shoulder, accompanied by the quiet rattle of chains. Soren accepted the touch silently, but he looked scared.

Not scared of Corvus. Of what he was asking, perhaps.

“Then he will understand,” Corvus said, his voice low and even.

Soren looked up. “You really think so?”

“War is war,” he replied. “There is no room for hard feelings.”

“But I’m his son,” Soren protested quietly. “I think there’s room for… _a few_ hard feelings.”

Corvus met his eyes. “Maybe.”

There were a few moments of silence, broken only by Soren’s sharp inhales every now and then. Eventually, he sighed deeply and spoke:

“Do you really think it’ll be okay? I- I mean, you…“

He paused, seemingly looking for the right words. Corvus waited.

“When you said you didn’t want to be called a traitor, I didn’t understand you,” Soren began. “To be honest, I thought you were being an idiot by not running away. But now I think I know what you meant. Even if I’m with the… the bad guys…” His voice cracked. “Isn’t it still treason?”

“It’s not your fault that… You just…” Corvus trailed off. He really didn’t know how to sugarcoat this one.

Soren shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I know I’m being unfair... I won’t ask you to answer this. After all, this is a choice _I’m_ making.”

Corvus paused. “Will you come with me?” he finally asked.

Soren nodded, slowly. “One of us has to be a traitor, and I…” He smiled sheepishly, raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck. “I think that’s supposed to be me. I- I’m okay with it. As long as it’s okay for me to… feel bad about it, too.”

“It is,” Corvus told him, because Soren looked like he truly needed the reassurance. “I promise.”

“Okay. Good,” Soren muttered awkwardly. His cheeks had begun to turn crimson. “Th- Thanks. So, uh…” He looked back at his horse. “Let’s go?”

Corvus couldn’t help glancing down at his chains.

“Right, sorry,” Soren said, apparently only now noticing the key that was still clasped in his hand.

He carefully unlocked the cuffs and put them on his belt, but then he thought better of it and gave them to Corvus instead.

“Here,” he said. “And I’m keeping the key.”

Corvus nodded, taking them. It was a pact; he’d agreed to trust Soren, and for that he was being given a reason to.

Soren got on his horse first, offering a hand to Corvus. He accepted the help, taking a seat in front of Soren, who looked even more flustered now.

“Is something the matter?” Corvus asked softly, looking back at Soren’s flushed face.

“N- No, I just… I’m not used to sharing a horse, is all,” he replied.

“Neither am I,” Corvus told him. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused. “So, uhm… where to?”

“Your sister is waiting for you, isn’t she? Better not keep her waiting.”

Soren hesitated. “But Claudia’s… she’s with dad.”

“And she’s with you, too,” Corvus said. “I believe she has yet to make her choice.”

Soren’s tight expression softened. He nodded, gripping the reins.


End file.
